


Lord, I miss you

by QueenBoo



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Boys being unable to be apart for a few days, Established Relationship, Fluff, Howard goes to leeds, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining, References to Sex, and Vince is left at home, mostly just these idiots bantering for 3k words, skype conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24595078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoo/pseuds/QueenBoo
Summary: Howard has gone to Leeds for his mum's birthday, Vince has stayed behind at the shop. What else to do but video call one another?
Relationships: Howard Moon/Vince Noir
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	Lord, I miss you

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% based on some gifs I made of Julian in Central Hill in a dressing gown, shirtless, and ranting. I was encouraged by @richardnoelchris and @Un1c0rntea and apparently when I get writers block on other projects I churn out random fluffy oneshots? So. This happened.

Vince didn't spend that much time on computers. 

It might surprise some people to learn he largely didn’t like them at all, given that he was usually the one at the forefront of trends. Even the more technological based trends, he was right there leading the way, making it his business to be in the know. He'd been the first between himself and Howard to get a mobile phone. Had delighted in how it flashed various colours as it rang, within an hour of owning the thing he had learnt how to choose any tune as a ringtone. 

He'd even been the one to suggest they get a computer in the first place. It seemed to be the thing to do. Everyone was moving away from internet cafes and the communal library computers and investing in home ones. 

But then once they'd bought the thing, it was Howard that had actually made more use of it.

Vince _ is _ always updating his social media; whenever possible he is posting on his Myspace page (usually something hilarious he has just found out about Howard) and he certainly had enough virtual friends that typing into the void never felt as empty as it should. 

But Howard? Lord the man couldn't stop finding uses for the thing. He had a whole new stock taking system set up on a digital spreadsheet. Hours would be spent scrolling through online auctions for rare jazz records; furious clicking and frantic typing had often been the soundtrack to Vince falling asleep. Lester would email with him. Don’t even get him started on when the man found out he could get  _ 'proper intellectual' _ games on there (meaning solitaire, or chess if he was feeling particularly saucy) then it was nigh impossible to get him off the thing unless he had something more interesting to offer. Which, luckily Vince did. He had a whole host of interesting things to offer.

Point being, unless it was to make contact with his adoring crowd; Vince didn’t  _ do  _ computers. Which makes it frankly terrifying that he finds himself agreeing to do a video call with Howard while he’s away in Leeds. 

It's not a long trip by any stretch of the word. Just a week, a little visit home for Mrs Moon's birthday. If you really thought about it, it was only three. Because Vince had kissed him goodbye the morning he left and he planned on shagging him hello when he returned tomorrow. Three days still felt like an age when you considered these men were unused to spending more than a day or two apart since meeting one another - a feeling only amplified with the development of more romantic engagements. 

Vince wanted to be in Leeds with him, but Howard hadn’t asked. It wasn’t like Vince was even the kind of person who would invite himself along - he was just lucky enough to always be asked to the places he wanted to be. So he’d waited. Helped him pack his case with the perfect outfits for his plans. Checked and double checked when his trains were waiting for that moment when Howard would say  _ “Would you like to come too?” _ . Naboo would give them the time off, he’d be glad if it meant not dealing with Vince’s (only slightly) horrific moods when his other half was gone. 

But he hadn’t asked. 

And Vince knew Howard. Read the way he dropped a kiss onto Vince’s forehead and then to his lips (his little routine - he even had  _ kiss routines _ ) and brushed a thumb over his cheek before he’d left for what it really was. An internal struggle. He’d wanted him to come too; but was likely overthinking the request. They’d only been together six months - and it wasn’t like he hadn't met Howard’s parents before - but this would be the first time he met them as Howard’s  _ partner.  _

Partner being the word he used, he hated boyfriend, said it sounded too immature. 

It was Howard’s bread and butter to overthink all the little things, Vince wasn’t going to do it. Almost certainly he had held himself back over the concern of what the ‘proper’ thing to do would be. The Moons knew about them as a couple, but would it be weird to take Vince without him explicitly being invited? Would the Moons be as overjoyed to see Vince as they would their own son. Would they maybe feel like Howard’s relationship was stealing the limelight from the wondrous occasion of a 65th birthday dinner? Would Vince even fit in at the rural northern town the Moons had retired to? 

Things that  _ had  _ crossed Vince’s mind too but he hadn’t given them purchase to cling on and fester. Howard loved a bit of existential festering. 

It meant here they both were, six days after Howard had left and desperate to see one another face to face. Howard returns tomorrow and though it could be argued they could wait - neither of them were known for their patience. 

Vince sits nervously at the desk in their room (Howard's desk) waiting for the screen to do something to indicate his partner calling. He already regrets agreeing to this. 

It's not that he wasn't excited to talk to Howard. Exchanging nothing but text messages and an affection filled phone call or two for a week was really driving him up the wall - and the older man took an age to reply to a message sometimes. Vince was often sat behind the counter of the shop twirling his phone in one hand and flipping the pages of a magazine with the other. He swears he started hearing phantom notifications; beeping indicating a message he never actually received. No, he couldn't wait to see him. 

It was the feeling of newness that was lodging in his stomach like a lead weight. 

Exactly like the first time they’d met. Vince had spent all morning watching the awkward lanky child who spent all his time hovering at the edge of the playground before deciding to make him his best friend. It was stupid feeling to get now, and he knew this. They'd been friends for nearly twenty years and lovers for over half a year. Why was he so nervous? 

The computer in front of him erupts in a jaunty tune; screen filling with a request for connection. 

He takes one calming breath, plasters a grin on his features, and then clicks what he hopes is the button for answering. 

Howard appears. Propped as he is in a desk chair with a red Terry cloth robe pulled around him, his wet hair disheveled as if fingers have been pulled through the locks but not a comb, he looks tired. Vince instantly recognises the room to be a study; wall to wall books behind him giving it away. His features purse in confusion. 

Just the sight of him makes any nerves evaporate - bubbling joy replaces the feeling. The previously grimaced smile morphs into a grin much more usual of Vince. 

"Vince?" 

"Howard!" He calls enthusiastically in response, shifts to tuck his knees up on the chair underneath him and lean forward into the screen. "How are you? How's Leeds? Is your mum having a good birthday?" 

Howard continues to frown at the screen. "Vince I can't see you."

"Oh, hang on." He drags at the mouse, does his best to find something to press in order to fix the issue. 

"You need to click the-" 

"Yes I know what I need to click Howard, thank you."

"Just trying to help."

"I'm capable of clicking a button." While he says this he tries to decipher if the box shaped thing inside the circle is supposed to represent camera operations - and ends up clicking it anyway just to see what happens. Thankfully the previously empty square in the bottom corner fills with a picture - Vince's own face smiling into it. 

Howard's features soften instantaneously, teeth on show as his lips curl up in unabashed delight. 

"Hey." Vince breathes. 

"Hello." Howard returns, murmured, afraid of shattering the moment. 

They just look. It’s hideously soppy of them but Vince is coming to appreciate the soppy side of a relationship. It's nice to have someone gush over you and get a gushy feeling of your own for someone else. A side he’d never been able to appreciate until Howard came along. 

"Hows Leeds?" He asks once more, wary of wasting their valuable communication time. 

“Fine.” Howard sighs, which already means something is rather not fine. 

“What happened?” The inquiry comes with as much fondness as he can manage. After the silence of the flat this past week Vince is more than eager to hear Howard rant about something. Anything. He rests his elbow on the desk, props his head in his hand and watches how his partner goes through the motions of getting ruffled on the other end of the screen. 

It starts with the arms crossing over his chest, nose wrinkling up, shoulders tensing up by his ears. “Nothing  _ bad.”  _ The man grumbles. “Just mum being her usual overbearing self.” 

“She’s not overbearing, ‘oward, she just cares about you.” 

“She spent forty minutes today chasing me around the house to check if I’d had breakfast.” Vince can’t help himself but to laugh at the mental image that paints for him. Covers his mouth so not to give away that it's happening. Howard is wrapped up in his rambling, anyway, so he doesn't notice. “Even when I manage to escape she finds me again. Knocking on the door. “ _ Do you want a cup of tea Howard?”.”  _

“Let the woman make you tea!” Vince can’t help but jump in to defend Mother Moon. He’s always remembered her as being a good, kind, woman. Not at all the beast Howard seemed to imagine her as. “She’s probably just glad to have someone around to talk to. Must get lonely in that house all by herself, you know.” 

“My father does live here too.” 

“Yeah but your dad wasn’t very good at being present was he?” Vince rolls his eyes. “Remember that time your mum went to stay at your aunts and I basically moved in for three days? We built a den in the living room. Ate ice cream until our tummies ached and stayed up all night watching the TV. I don’t think he left his study once.” 

“Alright, fair point.” 

“Besides, it’s not like you have to put up with it that often, do you?” Once a year, if that. Christmas was apparently a holiday Howard had been devoting to Vince since the day they moved out on their own. 

Howard begrudgingly nods his head, concedes the point. “Alright. Yes. You can stop guilting me now - I forgot you were her biggest fan.” 

Honestly, Vince and Mrs Moon managed to maintain an ‘affectionate at a distance’ kind of relationship over the years. Meaning they would use Howard as a conduit to ask how the other was doing without ever having direct contact. He did miss her a bit too; he often wonders if she would be happy to see him again after all this time. “Well she always fed me.” 

“I’m the one that feeds you now, could you show some loyalty?” 

Vince giggles again, twists a lock of hair in his fingers. Howard’s got the kind of look in his eyes that had he been in the room Vince would expect to be kissed. He’s been getting so much better at initiating affection lately - or at least giving off enough signals that he was craving it that Vince knew to do so. This half cocked smirk and mischievous eyes he’s sporting almost certainly means there’d be tongue involved too. 

God he misses him. 

A similar thought must strike Howard, he clears his throat. “How’s everything at home?” 

“Fine.” Vince sits straight; anxious fingers find things to fiddle with. Picking at pens and post-it notes on Howard’s desk. “Naboo’s bein’ a bit of a pain. Think he forgets how useful you actually are, you know. Don’t even get me started on my attempts to balance the till.” 

Howard is dying to say ‘I told you so’ but he goes for a gentler version. “I always offer to teach you how to do it.” 

“But I don’t need to know how to do it. That’s what you’re there for.” 

“And what about when I’m not there, Vince?” 

“This is why you should always be here.” Vince shrugs, gazes shyly at his feet. “Or if you’re not then I shouldn’t be either.” 

It was the repetition of an exact argument they’d had before Howard had gone to Leeds in the first place. Well. It’s difficult to call it an argument when it was a completely silent affair. Expressions and looks cast to one another that they both understood the meaning of but neither bothered to put voice to. They were good at that, talking without actually talking. Unasked questions and unsaid things were hovering between them. Vince’s _ “Please take me.” _ and Howard’s  _ “Please come.”  _ Never voiced but loud anyway. 

“Mum’s been asking about you too.” Howard says, and to his credit, he sounds just as regretful as Vince would want him to be. “About why you aren’t here.” 

“Oh yeah?” He can’t bring himself to look at the screen. He hates it right now, the barrier between them. “What’d you tell her?” 

“That I thoughtlessly didn’t ask you to come with me.” 

That makes Vince smile, as it usually does when Howard admits he’s wrong. It doesn’t happen too often, as you can imagine. But when it does, it's second only to an orgasm how great it feels. Fills him with almost the same sense of satisfaction and smug joy. Good enough that he finds it in himself to say, “Well. I didn’t ask to come either.” He shrugs it away. “We’re even.” 

“Next time.” He promises.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Vince finally looks back at the screen, his pout passing quicker than it arrived. “I’d be well useful, I’d  _ let  _ your mum dote on me all she wanted and then you wouldn’t have to fight her off would you?” 

“I knew you’d prove your worth one day.” Howard teases. 

Vince sticks his tongue out in response, snickers into his fist when Howard makes a face right back at him. It’s utterly childish, but exactly the way Vince prefers to behave after a discussion of semi-serious nature. 

“So tell me what else you’ve been up to? Your text said something about a church?” He lets his posture slump once more, relaxing into conversation. 

“Oh.” Howard’s face falls into exaggerated annoyance again. He too slumps back in his chair, arms dropping to his sides from around his chest and allowing his dressing gown to fall open where it had previously been pulled around himself. Vince  _ can’t help _ but notice his partner is shirtless beneath said dressing gown and it’s a struggle to pay attention to anything else he says. “Mum insisted on taking us all to mass this morning. Which was terrible anyway but then we ran into my old trumpet tutor and she burst into tears at the sight of me, which wasn’t ideal.” 

The only reason Vince doesn’t descend into laughter at that statement is because he’s so busy wondering why on earth Howard is strutting around his house shirtless, and why he couldn’t be doing that here. 

“Vince are you listening to me?” 

“What?” 

His attention snaps back to what Howard is saying, but he has a knowing smirk spread on his face. “You alright?” 

“Yeah.” It is a blessing in disguise that Vince doesn’t have to pretend not to be checking Howard out anymore, and can appreciate the skin on show without fear of rejection. “Why haven’t you got a shirt on?” 

“Unbelievable.” Howard chuckles. “200 miles between us and you still manage to be insatiable.” 

“I’m not!” Vince snaps, though his cheeks colour all the same. “I’m just wondering why you’re skipping about in nothing but a dressing gown. You never do that at home.” And honestly, this is the kind of behaviour he’d encourage. 

“I’ve got pants on, Vince.” Howard tries his best to sound reprimanding but his face gives him away. “I just got out of the shower and didn’t get dressed yet. Why does it matter?” 

“Because you never do it at home.” 

“We live with two other people.” 

“You  _ mum  _ is in that house!” 

Howard gives in, breaks into childlike laughter. The kind he has that’s pitched up, relentless giggles that remind Vince so much of their childhood it makes his heart ache and his own cackles spill forth. 

“What do you want from me?” Howard asks through his laughter. “You want me to promise to be shirtless more while at home?” 

“Yes. That’s exactly what I want.” Vince makes a show of nodding emphatically. “Your clothes are a crime anyway, you being naked is preferable.” 

“Insatiable.” 

“You complaining?” 

Howard wipes under his eyes with his thumb, clearing away any tears he’d shed in amusement. “Not at all, I just didn’t realise sleeping with you was going to take up all of my time.”

“That’s your problem.” Vince shrugs him off carelessly, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “I took up all your time  _ before  _ we were shagging, what did you think would happen?” Howard cocks his head like he’s genuinely mulling it over but ends up just rolling his eyes in fond agreement. Vince blows a kiss to him. “What time is your train tomorrow?” 

“I’ll be home by two.” 

“Good.” Vince raises his eyebrows suggestively. “‘Boolio is going supplies shopping. To _ Iceland _ .” 

There's a sigh from the other end of the call that is much too put upon for what he’s insinuating. “And I suppose I’ll be expected to make up for lost time?” 

“Too bloody right.” Howard puffs a last breath from his lips in good humour. Vince tracks the quirk of his smile. The crinkle of happiness by the corners of his eyes. In the silence Vince finds himself admitting. “I have missed you, you know. Too quiet when you’re not around.” 

“Are you sure? Normally you do the talking for both of us.” 

“Yeah but my voice don’t echo right when you’re not in the room for it to bounce off of.” Which, thankfully, Howard takes as the compliment it was intended to be because he’s leaning forward on his father's desk and grinning into the camera. 

“I promise next time I’ll bring you.” He says. “Mum would love to see you again,” 

“Even as your boyfri- partner?” 

“ _ Especially  _ as my partner.” Howard nods, soft smile on his face. “Her exact words when I told her were _ ‘we all saw this coming’ _ .” 

“She always used to ask if you were treating me right.” Vince admits. “With a wink an’ all like she’d off you for being rude to me.” Howard looks horrified enough by this insinuation Vince can’t help but snort into his fist. “Don’t worry! I always told her you were.”

“I should think so.” The man sniffs in faux indignation. “I was a brilliant friend.” 

“Well…” 

“Oi, you cheeky tart.” Howard’s finger extends toward the camera in a threatening point. “Watch it or I’ll be taking a long hot bath with the door locked as soon as I get home tomorrow.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

Howard opens his mouth, a no doubt cheekily sensual retort poised on his tongue, but as if one cue there is a dainty knock off screen that Vince imagine's is Howard’s mother. He hears the muffled musical tones of Mrs Moon and Howard’s gaze turns pleading where it eyes the camera. “I should go.” He utters, conveying his sadness at the words perfectly well with the downturn of his mouth. 

“Okay.” Vince says. Doesn’t let himself argue because they could be here another hour or two if they let themselves, and tonight is Howard’s last night with his parents for  _ at least  _ a year. They deserve time with him as much as Vince does. “I love you.” 

“Love you too.” Howard looks over each shoulder, the big awkward bugger that he is, and then shyly blows a kiss to the camera. Vince’s heart leaps. “See you tomorrow.” 

Vince barely gets to utter a goodbye and the screen goes black. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Song Miss You by The Rolling Stones
> 
> As ever I can be found on Tumblr:  
> @queen-boo / @anciientboosh


End file.
